Lucifer's Scion
by MissMac
Summary: "The Scion? Of Lucifer? You're positive those were the exact words you heard?" To anyone watching Crowley, the King of Hell seemed to be the picture of calm. His voice did not shake, he did not sweat, his face showed boredom. But internally Crowley felt a small moment of panic at his lackey's words. The Scion would be the end to his Reign, just not in the way he thought. Crowley/OC
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anything that you recognize from this story is the property of it's rightful owner.

Disclaimer The Second: My tablet likes to play games and change words on me. Please forgive any odd words! I tried to catch them all but, nope, I'm not perfect.

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Whispers had been spoken of a descendant of God, whispers that grew louder with each ear that was touched. The tales of how to find this descendant became so widespread, that the ears of both Heaven and Hell prepared to cross the realms to seek out the descendant that carried the blood and essence of God within them. Angels were sent down to protect while demons were released above to bring the descendant down to Hell.

Lucifer had grown intrigued by the thought of a simple mortal man, weak and defenseless, housing God's essence. The Scion of God, born from a virgin human woman, would bring new believers to Heaven while saving them from Lucifer's grasp. The message would be planted like a seed, slowly spreading and growing for years to come. Sins would be forgiven and souls would be cleansed.

It was widely known that souls held power within them, and he that held the souls gained that power. Not to be beaten by God, Lucifer sought to create his own descendant by combining his own essence with a virgin mortal woman. Each attempt to create a Scion became a failure as none of the woman that were brought to him were pure of body yet corrupt of heart. Each of the babes were born yet their souls were clean, too clean to serve the purpose of corrupting the souls in which Lucifer sought. The children flocked to God's Scion, following him and learning from the mortal's teachings. This only invoked Lucifer's wrath more, the need to ensure his reign in Hell growing each day.

Struck by a passing thought, Lucifer found a woman pure of body and charged one of his Knights with her possession. No amount of screaming or tears stopped the demon from entering her body, silence falling over the small shack as the girl's eyes became blackened. Lucifer allowed the demon to use the woman's body for months, committing dark sins but leaving her virtue intact. Only when the mortal's soul had blacked did the demon leave her body. Lucifer approached her performing the rituals as he had countless times before, but knew that this time would be different. This time, Lucifer's Scion would be born.

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Lucifer kept the child locked away in the darkest depths of Hell, waiting to see if his Scion was truly created. The years grew long and Lucifer watched in disgust as his essence was wasted once more. The Scion, a boy now the age of thirteen years, was a gentle and kind soul. No matter what Lucifer tried the boy's soul remained pure, another failure in the battle against God. Or so Lucifer thought until he released the boy to be amongst humanity. It wasn't long before the boy spread tales of sin and demons, of Hell and its ruler. Instead of heeding the boy's warnings, humanity began to imagine the pleasures and promises that sin could bring. The hedonistic race began to swarm though Hell's Gates and Lucifer's strength continued to grow.

The boy never returned to Hell, evading demonic capture by praying to God for help and forgiveness. Until the boy became a man, and his sights became set upon a woman in the way that men's sights do. He married the woman but fear kept him from laying with her, fear of what his child would become. His dreams held visions of Lucifer taking the child and keeping the babe locked away in Hell, of the babe being born with the eyes of a demon. But his love for his wife, and her love for the thought of baring his child, led him to be with her. The child was born, a son, and thus the Scion of Lucifer had passed the King of Hell's essence on. A new Scion was born.

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"So, what you are sayin', Cas, is that we have to track down some great-great-great-great grandson of Lucifer?" Dean took a long swig from the bottle he had left untouched, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked at Castiel expectantly. They had been searching of a way to open communication with Lucifer without sending Sam to the Cage. After days of shooting down theories, Castiel had offered the story of the mythical Scion of Lucifer. It was Sam that spoke instead.

"I think it might be a few more 'greats' in there, Dean." Sam kept his eyes trained on the screen of his laptop as he spoke. "If the first Scion was from Biblical times…" Sam gave a small shake of his head as he tried to focus his thoughts on the daunting task before them. Visions of the cage continually played inside his mind, flashes of chains or Lucifer's face. It was still uncertain whether the visions came from God or someone else. Sam had to believe that somewhere God was out there.

"The Scion is not a _child_ of Lucifer. He cannot sire children as his essence is not demonic." Castiel's eyes widened a fraction, the movement noticed by both Winchester. "It was never about having a powerful child or creating a cambion, it was about passing a part of his essence along to a mortal woman."

"'Passing his essence.' Sounds like any normal guy wanting his name to carry on." Dean slammed his head back, emptying the bottle before placing it on the table next to Sam's laptop. "So, tell me you've got an angelic paternity test. Or-or child support records. Something, anything that will give us a clue as to where we can find this Scion." Dean began to walk away, but stopped short and faced Castiel once more. "And even if we do the impossible and find this Scion, what guarantee do we have that he can communicate with Lucifer in the cage?"

"The Scion will be able to walk through Hell unscathed as Jesus walks through Heaven undetected. The essence within will protect him in Hell and he will be able to reach Lucifer."

"And if this guy won't walk through Hell for complete strangers?" Dean was getting more agitated as the conversation went on. He knew that they had performed miracles before, they had beaten the odds when stacked against them but this was borderline ridiculous.

"Okay, so we find the Scion first and deal with the rest later. Dean, you said it yourself, this is the best option we've got right now." Sam closed his laptop and stood, turning to address the pensive Angel. "Case, is there anything you can do to get us going in the right direction? Anything at all?"

"I will go and find out why I can. Sam, please do not go into the Cage. This _is_ the better way." Cas was gone before either of the brothers could say another word. Sam and Dean stared at the spot he had been for a moment, Sam's sigh breaking the silence that has fallen over them.

"How are we supposed to find Hell's equivalent of Jesus? I've never even heard anything about Lucifer's Scion. What if Cas is wrong?"

"Yeah, man. But what if he's right?"

It had only taken Cas a matter of hours to return to the Winchesters, the information he had found being only the first lead they had. It was better than the nothing they had had before, and Dean voiced just that.

"Well, now we've narrowed it down from every man on Earth to every man on Earth born on Christmas. At least the search will only take decades instead of years."

"No, Dean. Not born on Christmas, born on the same day as Jesus."

"Of course, it's not Christmas. That was just a day chosen because of other importance in Pagan religions." Sam saw a flash of Lucifer's face, as if whoever was sending the visions was telling them that they were closing in on an answer.

"Okay, Cas. What day was Jesus born on?"

"The exact day is not known." At Cas's answer, Dean threw his hands out to either side of his body, obviously not pleased with the answer. Not affected by Dean's response, Cas continued. "But it would be near the end of what you know as September."

"Damn it. Cas, we need more to go on than that. Isn't there anything else?"

"You _could_ ask a demon. Lucifer's reign is more their area of expertise." Castile wished he could share more, wished he could be of more use. But the Scion if Lucifer was not even believed to have truly existed. It was more like the modern fairy tale, possibly based in truth but changed so much throughout the decades that it could be believed only as myth. If any being had more answers, and they could be made to give those answers, it would be a demon. "It would need to be an old demon. One that had contact with Lucifer."

"Well it's not like we can put a personal ad out in the paper, Cas." Dean stood from his chair, grabbing his coat before walking away. The impala's keys jingled in his hand as he held them up for Sam to see. "C'mon, Sammy. We've got a geriatric demon to find."

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"The Scion? Of Lucifer? You're positive those were the exact words you heard?" To anyone watching Crowley, the King of Hell seemed to be the picture of calm. His voice did not shake, he did not sweat, his face showed boredom. But internally, Crowley felt a small moment of panic at his lackey's words. The Winchesters had been searching out demons, which would not be an oddity for a pair of hunters. But what Crowley found odd was the way that the brothers seemed to be _searching_ for demons. Specifically, demons that served under Lucifer. It was almost as unnerving as The Darkness no longer being under his influence. Not that Amara was ever _truly_ under Crowley's influence. But he had held out hope. Until Dean _bloody_ Winchester came bounding down the hall like a damned savior of humanity. Even if that was what he was known as, Crowley still had the right to be annoyed.

"Y-yes." The lackey's voice brought him out of his thoughts, focusing him back on the interesting and worrisome new development. If the Winchesters were searching for the not-so-mythical Scion of Lucifer, it could only mean that they were trying to gain access to Lucifer himself. "Sir… does this mean that Lucifer will be freed from the cage?"

" _If_ the Scion exists, and _if_ the Boy Wonders can find him… They would still have to get him to Hell then to the cage. _Then_ they would have to know how to use the Scion to _open_ the cage. Then pray that Lucifer doesn't smite then the instant he is free for getting him stuck back in there to begin with." Crowley's voice had risen by the time he had finished his rant, the only external sign that he was slightly worried about the idea. He took a breath, ending in more of a sigh than a calm exhale. "If it were anyone, ANYONE, else trying to thwart me with this task, I wouldn't even think it could be done. But those damn Winchesters always seem to find a way…"

"What will we do?"

" _We_? _You_ will find the Scion and _I_ will kill him."

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	2. God, help the girl

"God help the girl… she needs all the help she can get." –Catherine Ireton

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It was definitely a "Thirsty Thursday" type of night for Devon. Drinks, karaoke, and potential one-night stands were on her mind as the clock slowly ticked by. She had heard her coworkers talk about their weekly escapades in front of her, most of the girls were five years younger than her and a lot more open with their lives and their bodies. She had been asked, once again, to join the girls in a night of debauchery and drinking. They were always so kind to ask her, even as she turned them down each week. She told herself it was because she was their supervisor, but in reality Devon was just not the drinking and fun type anymore.

Working as an accountant was never her dream job growing up, but being a nurse just didn't hold that same appeal after seeing all the blood and needles that came with it. She didn't have to worry about figures and spreadsheets making her nauseous. Only her impending birthday, the ugly three-oh, was the cause of the bad feeling in her stomach now. Thirty was here, tomorrow to be exact, and yet Devon had no family to celebrate with, not even a cat was waiting in her little studio apartment. The four woman and two men she supervised had discovered this fact and were insistent on buying her a round of birthday drinks. It was in Devon's nature to be the matronly one in the office, but the thought of herself going out to some run-down trashy bar and hooking up with a random guy did start to spark a flame of excitement. Perhaps with thirty on the way, her nature was changing.

Of course, she would never act on the intrigue that thought presented. There was a reason she was alone and it wasn't because of her appearance. She was average in the looks department, her natural blonde hair was covered in years of dye jobs and changed her into a brunette, her eyes were blue but not a special type of blue. Her skin was pale, nicely referred to as fair but in reality she was so pale she described herself as 'transparent'. A bit on the curvier side, especially compared to the sticks she worked with, but not unhealthy. Average. Nothing special. Nothing to notice.

There had been a boyfriend and there had been friends and there had been a life, but after her mother had been arrested that went away. Three years, a new job, a new city and a new life. She had moved to be close to where her mother would stay for the duration of her sentence. 'Life in prison'. Sometimes she wondered who _really_ was serving that sentence. At least the jury had accepted her mother's insanity plea. A state security hospital was better than the alternative, she supposed.

"You're thinkin' about it aren't ya?" Devon looked away from the clock, startled by the voice of her coworker, Katie. The youngest at twenty-three, Katie was the newest employee at the accounting firm. Fresh out of college and full of life, Devon couldn't help but think of herself as being the same way at that age. It made her smile at Katie, despite her sour mood. Katie took that as a sign to continue, her insistence to get Devon out for just one night was admittedly admirable. "C'mon, Dev! You don't even have to pay for it! Let your hair down and whatnot."

"If I let my hair down it would be a frizzy disaster." Devon caught the glare that Katie gave her but ignored it. Dry humor usually turned people away, made them realize she was no fun to be around. Unfortunately her coworkers had become immune to it. "I don't just mean my hair. I would be a disaster. I'm a lightweight. Haven't had a drink in forever."

"Then you'll be a cheap date!"

"I'll just get a buzz from smelling the liquor."

"Then you'll be a _fun_ date!"

Watching her mom slowly tumble into alcoholism had tuned her away from drinking. The fact that insanity had followed the alcoholism had kept Devon away from it. Looking into the younger girl's hopeful eyes, the innocence of youth still shining through, Devon felt her control slip. Before she could stop herself, she sighed her agreement. She could always just stick to soda or water. Play it safe. It had worked the last three years, but surely one night of socializing wouldn't ruin her life.

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It had been over two weeks and the demons they had encountered had finally been able to give them a better idea of how to find Lucifer's Scion. They had narrowed the list down to only a few hundred men, but not all of those men were in the United States. The criteria was simple. Male, thirty, birthmark near his eye that looked like a tear drop. Castiel had called it the Mark of something or other, but Dean had been more focused on the idea that they could actually be closing in on finding the Scion. Finding the way to stop The Darkness without Sammy going near The Cage. It _would_ have to be Sam that stopped Amara, as Dean had already failed in doing so.

Their search had brought them to some small town in Minnesota, the air crisp with fall just about to start. Hacking into birth records had been easy, looking through hours of 'distinguishing' marks had been unending. The thought that Charlie could have created a program to do it for them had crossed Dean's mind. The pang in his heart at the thought of Charlie had him storming from the hotel room, Sam close behind.

"What is it?" Sam's voice was questioning and his brow was pulled tight in confusion and worry. His brother had been fine moments before, but something must have set him off. Dean still hadn't completely shaken the edge off since their last meeting with Amara. She had gotten under his brother's skin, somehow.

"This is pointless, Sam. What good are we doing? We are just wasting our time here while The Darkness is out there doing God knows what." Dean remained calm as he spoke, but he knew that Sam heard the tremble in his words. His frustration over the search was getting to him, his grief over Charlie was still there, his need for a drunken night away was growing. He knew that Sam could see right through him.

"I know it looks like that, but, again, what other choice do we have." Sam let out a huff of air, the sound coming across as a humorless laugh. "We could stop all this," Sam gestured back towards the motel room, "if you'd just agree that The Cage-"

"Damn it, Sam. I'm not having this conversation again. You go to the cage and you'll be used as a meat-suit for Lucifer." Dean stomped his way to the impala, his hand hovering over the handle. Sam did not follow him, but instead tuned back to walk into their motel room. "And if Lucifer gets you… no one will be able to stop Amara." The words were whispered, more to himself then to Sam. If his brother had heard him, he made no acknowledgment to Dean. Getting into the impala, he gripped the wheel tightly as he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. In a flash, his eyes opened and he was pulling out of the driveway in the direction of the bar they had passed. He convinced himself that a little break was all he needed. A drink, or a few, to cool his head and then he'd be back to it.

He could see the bar was full as he made his way inside. A sign by the door had caught his eye, the words 'LADIES DRINK FREE' brining a smile to his face. Booze and ladies. The self-prescribed medication that Dean had used for years to get him though life. It had worked so far, and who was he to ruin a good thing? The sounds of bad karaoke could be heard and Dean had the briefest of flashbacks to his time with Crowley. His hand automatically went to the place where the Mark of Cain had been, as if he still could feel it's power even as it no longer marred his skin. Signally to the bartender for a shot of whatever, Dean pushed away his thoughts of Crowley and Cain and Amara. Looking around at the sea of ladies, he refused to let himself ruin his self-proclaimed 'night off'.

It was a short time later when Dean saw her. It was hard to miss the woman in a thick gray cardigan sweater. She stuck out to him amongst the mass of scantily clad woman throughout the bar. Her dark hair was down but she still looked like a librarian, and not the hot kind. She was smiling politely at something one of the girl's next to her had said, but shook her head in the negative. Dean has always trusted his intuition, and something seemed off about this woman. Like she had purposely tried to distinguish herself from the others. Like she didn't belong. From years of experience, Dean knew that if things didn't look like they belonged then they didn't and shouldn't be ignored.

She looked up, as if she could tell he was staring at her, and seemed shocked to find she was right. Pulling her sweater a bit tighter around herself, Dean couldn't help himself and winked. Instead of blushing or flirting back, she sent him an icy glare. Dean put his hands up as if to say 'I get the hint' and gave her a shrug. He wasn't looking for a girl like that anyways, not when the bar was full of woman who would be a bit more adventurous. A lot more adventurous.

Devon watched him turn back away from her, glaring until he was fully faced away from her. She felt a bit of guilt at her rudeness, winking and looking and flirting _was_ acceptable behavior in a bar. Something about the man at the bar, his face, his eyes, his entire presence, had unnerved her. She figured it was the same feeling that deer had when they heard a predator close to them. Paranoid. The word flashed through her brain, her mother's voice ringing in her ears. She could hear it as clear as if her mother sat beside her _'They will come for you. One day, just like they took your father they will take you.'_ Devon knew her mother had been insane at that point. Never once did her mother speak of her father while Devon was growing up. Only after the trial and her mom was in a constant state of sedation did the warnings and talk of her father start.

Unable to shake the unease, Devon finished her soda and tried to find an excuse to leave. It wasn't so much that she was antisocial, but thinking of her mother had killed the shred of a jovial mood she had. The girls had all been friendly, but she knew that it was awkward to be out at a bar with your boss. Not wanting to ruin the evening for her coworkers, Devon politely excused herself. A chorus of good-byes had followed, with Katie offering to escort her to the door.

"No, that's ok. But thank you. And thanks for inviting me. I'll see you all in the morning." She turned to walk away, but on impulse she tuned back. She saw the laughter and fun being had around her, felt the tension of the bodies swaying together on the dance floor, heard the liquor being sloshed into cups. She felt like a woman possessed as she started to unbutton her sweater and shrugged it off. She looked at the clock above the bar. It was only moments after midnight, she was officially thirty years old. She shed the sweater from her body as if she was shedding the pain and heart ache and fear that seemed to plague her life. Throwing the sweater down, and clad in just her jeans and a plain red tank top, Devon addressed her coworkers. "Actually, maybe I _should_ have that drink."

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	3. The Night

"What has come over me? What madness taken hold of my heart?"-Disturbed  
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Devon knew it wasn't her that ordered the third drink, but somehow it had appeared in front of her. It could have been one of the girls surrounding her or could have been one of the men she had danced with. It didn't matter to her where it came from, it just mattered that she drink it. The liquor burned her throat as it slid down, the burn seeming to spread throughout her entire body. She could feel the sweat on her neck, her hair heavy against her skin. She felt flushed and knew her pale skin would be glowing red. Devon knocked her head back, some of the drink spilling out from around the glass. The liquid left two trails down her face and when she made a move to wipe at her mouth, a strong hand took ahold of her wrist.

"Lemme get dat fer ya." The stranger may have been talking perfectly clear for all Devon knew, but her brain had fogged over halfway through the first drink. He was a short for a man, his height matching Devon's five-foot-seven, but what he lacked in height he made up in bulk. Before Devon could react, the man leaned forward and swiped at her mouth with his own. Devon gave him a shove, his body feeling more like a truck than an actual person. She had the full intention of scolding him or yelling or slapping him. Instead, a fit of laughter erupted from her lips.

"Run along, little boy." She made a dismissive movement with her hands. When he didn't move away, Devon let another round of drunken laughter ring out. "Shoo, now." He came towards her again, this time the playful stance becoming aggressive. She tried to be scared for her safety, tried to gather her wits. Devon knew that a few simple drinks would not have affected her to the point that all self-preservation had vanished. Something else, like what had come over her mother, was happening to her. She knew it was bound to happen. Insanity seemed to be hereditary.

"I'm givin' ya-"

"Nothing. I don't want a thing from you."

"Dev! Let's go!" Katie's voice came out more of a scream than words. The girl had moved away from Devon once the thug had changed to aggressive. It was the smart thing to do. It was what Devon would have done, had she not lost her inhibitions.

Dean turned at the sound of the scream, surprised when the librarian from earlier was at the center of it. It was the same woman, but something had changed. He took out his phone, dialing Sam's number. He didn't feel like getting involved without letting Sam know he was missing out on the action. His brother answered, his clear voice confirming to Dean that Sam had not been asleep.

"Sammy! What changes an un-sexy librarian into a drinkin' and flirting' floozy?" Dean could practically feel Sam's sigh through the phone. "Yes, I said floozy." Dean noticed the woman next to him had heard him use the word as well. Giving her a smirk before she rolled her eyes and walked away, Dean then focused back on the impending bar fight. "She's either possessed or lost her soul."

"Or… she's just drunk, Dean. You are at a bar."

"What are you sayin', Sam? That I'm seeing somethin' from nothin'"

"Maybe you're just looking for a fight you can win o-or another lead on Amara. If you really thought it was something, would you have called me first?"

Dean didn't bother to respond before ending the call, hating that Sam could read him so well. He was right this time, of course it had to be just another woman losing her inhibitions due to alcohol. The brawl broke out suddenly, fists flying everywhere to the sound of the onlookers' scattered screams. It was chaotic, some running towards the fight while others ran from it. Dean simply observed, ready to jump in but holding himself back. The urges that he felt from The Mark had faded, but there were times when he missed the bliss of fighting for the sake of fighting.

"Aren't you going to join them? Looks like fun, doesn't it?"

Dean could barely hear her from where she stood to his side, knowing it was the librarian-turned-floozy before he even turned his head. His intuitions had served him well throughout the years, forget Sam and his accusations, that questioning tone. There was something not-right with this woman, Dean knew it. From the way she spoke, as if he knew what to say just to provoke him. From the way her body was positioned, no tension to be seen despite the chaos that she had caused.

"Or… would you join me?" Devon extended her hand towards the man who watched the fight with such longing. It was like his need to sin, to commit _any_ sin, could be felt in the air around him. Her brain seemed to shut down and her body had begun to act on pure instinct. It was terrifying and thrilling and Devon wanted to run but she never wanted the feeling to end. "We could make our own fun."

Her dark hair was wild, her eyes slighty glazed and her lips slightly parted. Dean would have agreed to her offer had she not been drunk. And possibly a demon or soulless. Or maybe she was an Amazon looking to make a baby. Relationships were hard enough without second guessing every woman's motives and rating them on a how-likely-to-kill scale..

"Sure, let's go have fun." Dean had no intention of having fun, but he had to know if there was a case here or not. Pulling out the holy water, Dean unscrewed the flask before dumping the contents on her outstretched hand. There was no sizzle as the water dripped from her hand, her lips breaking into a smile.

"Should I point out the obvious joke here or will you?" Dean put the flask away, remaining silent. She lowered her hand to her side, hooking her fingers in the back pocket of her jeans after wiping the excess water off. "I haven't been on the bar scene in years, but I really don't remember flirting involving dumping flasks on each other. Something new the kids are doing these days?"

Her voice was not heady or wanton as if she was trying to drunkenly seduce him, and she didn't slur. She didn't sizzle or pull away in pain from the holy water. Dean could only guess that Amara had been here and taken this girl's soul. The thought both pissed Dean off and gave him hope. A lead to The Darkness, but she was still taking souls. But how had Amara taken the librarian's soul undetected in the bar? Not that Dean had watched the woman's every move, but he hoped that he was still sharp enough to notice when someone was having their soul taken. The librarian spoke again, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

"I've had a few drinks… not enough to make me vulnerable. It's my birthday…" She put her hand out again, her palm facing up and ready to accept Dean's larger hand in her own. Knowing that he needed to get her away and someplace secure until he could figure out if her lack of soul made her a threat, Dean gave her a smirk and put his hand into hers.

No physical sparks flew from where their hands were joined, but Dean felt something inside shift. From where her hand trembled in his it felt like water rolling over his skin. He tried to pull away but found that he didn't want to. Instead, he pulled her closer. The noise of the bar seemed to hush as Dean moved closer to her. It was not a desire to be with her, it was a desire all its own that took over Dean. It was the feeling The Mark had given him, yet so much more. He wanted to drink, he wanted to steal, he wanted to murder. He wanted to sin.

Devon wanted to pull her hand away and run. Her senses seemed to crash back into her in that moment. Shaking her head to clear the haze even more, she remembered the recent events that had occurred but it was more like remembering scenes from a movie. Maybe she had been drugged? She sent up a silent prayer that whomever had drugged her had not succeeded in their plan. Unless it was the calm looking man before her that had been after her all along. She gently tugged her hand free, watching as the man seemed to come out of a daze. His voice was gruff as he spoke, nearly shouting over the brawl still going strong in the corner.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"And I'm fifty. You said it was your birthday." Dean took a step towards her but did not touch her. His voice came out even harsher still as she stood silently staring at him confusedly. "How old are you, damn it."

"Thirty! Damn. Can't I have any dignity." She had more to say, but when he came closer yet and studied her face Devon fell silent. He moved her hair back from her left eye, his expression becoming both horrified and surprised.

"You have a tear-drop birthmark. But… you're a chick. Unless…?" Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded pointedly towards Devon's legs, specifically between them. "No surprises in there, right?" Dean didn't wait for her answer as he pulled out his cellphone again. He took a step backwards, tuning away slightly to better hear Sam once the call connected. "Damn it, Sam." The call went to voicemail, but Dean discovered the bigger issue once he fully turned back around. Lucifer's Scion was not there waiting and Dean could just make out her form running through the exit and into the night.

Sam was not _ever_ going to let him live this down.

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"But how do you _know_ that this woman was the Scion? You said it yourself when you called, she could have been possessed or soulless." Sam's voice carried inside the impala as he threw the words back at his brother. They had driven all night searching for the woman that Dean was convinced was Lucifer's Scion and their key to his cage. Only when the sun crested the horizon did they circle back towards the bar with the hope of getting a solid lead on her.

"Demon, holy water." Dean held up a finger towards Sam, his other hand firmly grasping the steering wheel. "Soulless, she ran." Dean held up a second finger. "She got freaked when I questioned her and ran. Not soulless." Dean dropped his hand back to the steering wheel, his hands both gripping the wheel tight. A nervous habit that seemed to be getting worse. He gave a shrug of one shoulder before looking at Sam, a smirk covering his lips. "Soulful, even?"

"Cas said we were looking for a man, a male Scion?"

"Cas could be wrong about that. Look, I know what I felt, okay. This chick made me want to sin. Wasn't the Scion's entire purpose to promote sin and doom people to Hell?" Dean eased the impala into park, killing the ignition but making no move to get out. He eyed the exterior of the bar, it looked the same as the night before except it was dark and empty inside. Rubbing his hands over his face once, Dean slapped them down onto his knees. "Ready, Sam? Remember, do not touch her. Even if she's not the Scion… she sure as Hell ain't natural."

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	4. Breakdown

"In your life, you seem to have it all. You seem to have control. But deep within your soul, you're losing it." –Tantric

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It was an uneventful journey home from the bar for Devon, aside from the hyperventilating, vomiting and overwhelming sense of panic. It was late, or very early morning, but she needed to pack a bag and go to her mother. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the paranoia, Devon didn't care the reason why she had the sudden urge for the visit. She just needed to go.

Growing up as the daughter of a single mother had been fine, until her mother snapped. It wasn't a gradual decent into madness. She had gone to visit her mother and found her standing over a body, blood covering the floor. Her mother had been calm, not an eerie calmness but a rational calmness. It had been Devon that called for the police while her mother changed clothes and sat on the couch. The same couch they had had for Devon's entire life.

The buzzing of her phone snapped her into action once more. Ignoring the call, the now-sober woman packed a bag full of a change of clothes, her laptop and charger, and a few bottles of water. Once last glance and she was gone, hoping that she could still find a taxi that wasn't shuttling drunks home. She started walking, her steps hurried as if the faster she walked, the faster the sick feeling would leave her.

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The sun was fully risen by the time Devon was walking the near-empty halls of the security hospital. Moans and screams could be heard from behind some closed doors, giving off the feeling of misery. Her own mother's screams often joined her neighbors, more often as Devon was walking away. But this morning was different. No matter how Devon tried to convince herself, something had changed. Praying that it wasn't her mental state, Devon tried to be patient as the staff member unlocked the door. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him that her mother had once been sane and good and didn't deserve this. It would do her no good, and would just waste her time.

When the door opened and Devon entered, her mother became silent. Like a scene from a horror movie, her mother's eyes snapped open and focused on Devon. Silence fell over them for another moment, before a smirk fell across her mother's lips. It was not a look her mother had ever given, it was a look that Devon could only describe as demonic. The description became more accurate as she watched her mother's eyes change to be covered in complete blackness. She wanted to scream, but Devon made no sound. She wanted to run, but before she could act the door slammed shut on its own accord as the staff member was thrown against the wall behind her. The thud of his body against the ground was followed shortly by the snapping of restraints holding her mother. No, not her mother. The demon.

"Finally, we get to meet face to…" her mother's voice spoke the words, the light and cheery tone sticking out amongst the surroundings. "Meat-suit? I suppose it's not _my_ face you see."

"Meat-suit?" Devon's own voice was no more than a choked whisper. She couldn't have heard correctly or seen correctly or be even awake for this madness. It was all too much to mentally grasp, and she felt as her brain began to shutdown from panic. Her heart raced, the pounding so loud in her ears that sounds had become muted. She saw the creature's lips moving but only could catch a few words. _Scion. Cage. Sacrifice._ Nothing made sense. Everything that had happened since midnight seemed like a dream. A terrible insanity-induced dream. A tear slipped from her eye as her nightmare continued even as she prayed to be awaken.

The pounding in her ears increased and only when her mother, or the creature that had taken control of her mother, looked over Devon's shoulder did the woman realize that there was someone pounding on the door as well as in her head. Devon watched her mother's mouth open and could not look away as she seemed to vomit black smoke. It lasted for what seemed like hours before her mother's mouth closed and her boy collapsed onto the floor. In that same moment, the door burst opened behind her followed by a string of curses and someone calling her name.

She paid no attention as she took one step towards her mother's unmoving body. The next step followed, with the next steps falling quicker until she closed the distance to her mother's side. Devon fell to her knees, shaking her mother with a loud chorus of 'mom' falling from her lips.

"We have to get out of here, Sam. That demon being here sure as he'll was _not_ a coincidence."

"Dean… give her another minute." Sam looked to his brother, the obvious retort on Dean's lips. The girl's voice being the only thing holding his brother's tongue. She was nearly screaming at her mother, violently shaking the elder woman's body. Sam could practically feel the desperation rolling from the girl. Sam knew that particular feeling of desperation all too well. The girl began to quiet, her hands stilling. Sam took his chance and crouched down near her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Devon. You probably have questions, and we _will_ answer them. But not now, not here. We can go someplace safe-"

"Safe. Right." Devon nodded but she wasn't really listening to the gentle voice of the stranger. She closed her eyes, the tears she had yet to shred falling slowly down her cheeks, as he guided her to stand. She had to crane her neck to look at the stranger's face. His brow was taut with worry, for what Devon did not know. Movement near the door caught her eye and when she looked, her own eyes widened in recognition. "The bar…"

"Yup." Dean held up a hand, stopping her from saying anymore. "Look, you have questions and we've got the answers. Let's just get the hell outta here right now and have a nice long game of 'what the hell just happened later."

"But…Mom…?" Even to Devon, her small voice sounded pathetic. Once the shock had passed, she swore she would stop being a weak fool. But right now, weak was all she could be as she was pushed from the room and down the hall. Everything seemed to have dulled, the sun's rays had dimmed, colors were muted. She did not look back as she was taken through the maze of halls and stairways.

She continued to fight the urge to take one last glance as she slid into the passenger seat of the men's car. She lost the battle and watched the building grow smaller in the side mirror, the familiar feeling of loss overwhelming. A brief thought passed through her mind, reminding her that she was at the mercy of the two strange men in the car. Men that said they had answers, but could in fact be lying murderers that would slit her throat in the blink of an eye. Nothing made sense. Every thought hurt. She closed her eyes, allowing exhaustion to consume her as she sent out a silent prayer for her mother's soul.

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"She prayed. All of Heaven could have heard it. Her prayers may be genuine but they have a… unique feel… to them." The diner was loud enough from the vigorous lunch crowd that he felt free to speak. It was much better than the minutes of tense silence that they had all been sitting in. Castiel regarded the silent woman seated next to Dean in the booth. From the information he had been given, Lucifer's essence was passed through the males from the original Scion. So much of the matter was unknown that it worried him to even be sitting in her presence. "Stop praying unless you want to be tracked and hunted."

"Whoa, Cas. No need to put the fear of God in her. I'm sure she's freaked enough as it is."

"It is Angels she should fear more than God."

" _She's_ still sitting right here." Devon gently set down the mug she had been drinking from on the table in front of her. Three sets of eyes shot to her face, she could feel their stares even though her own eyes remained locked on the small bit of coffee she had yet to drink. "Do I have any other rules besides 'no praying'?" She knew her calm nature was putting them on edge, the tension in all of their postures betraying their steady voices and steady hands.

"Maybe we should start with giving you some answers." Everyone seemed to agree with Sam's suggestion. They waited for her to ask them one of the questions that they knew had to be burning in her mind. It was always the same, the questions that followed the discovery of something dark and nasty. But usually they explained to people the different threats that existed. This time they had to explain these same things to something that was potentially included in that category.

"Alright, how did you find me? At the hospital?"

"We went back to the bar and the owner gave us the name if the bartender that was working last night." Dean's voice was relaxed as he spoke, but it sounded as if he had practiced what he was going to say. Or he had known exactly what she was going to ask. "He didn't know you, but he knew your friends."

"Coworkers." Devon couldn't help but interrupt. When she offered no explanation for the interruption, it was Sam that continued.

"From your… _coworkers…_ we were able to track down your name and address. When you weren't there, a quick search and we found your mom's name and the hospital. Figured that you might be there and…" The hesitation leaked into Sam's voice the further he continued. Most of the time he would blurt out the truth, but if Devon truly was Lucifer's scion then she was their only hope getting to the Cage. Besides himself, of course. "There might be trouble."

"One drink in the last three fricken years and all of this happens to me."

Devon listened as Sam and Dean answered her questions, none of them simple. She refrained from asking questions about her mother and focused more on the men and their new involvement in her life. They were honest with their answers, some were short and guarded while others were long-winded. They informed her of what they deemed she needed to know, telling her of demons, demonic possession, angels, The Darkness. They continued on for an hour, seemingly pleased that she was receptive to what they had to share.

If not for seeing her mother possessed by a demon, Devon would have thought they were insane. If not for their reassurance that she was not in the throws of insanity herself, Devon would have probably just checked herself into a mental health ward. Throughout their conversation Castiel, the one they proclaimed to be an angel, remained mostly silent. His stare made her skin crawl and nearly distracted her from listening. When he broke his silence, his whispered voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Dean, they are coming."

Those words were all it took for the men to shift into action. They were not casual or slow about their movements, Dean grabbing Devon's arm with more force than he meant. In an instant Castiel was gone before her eyes and Sam pulled a knife on his own hand. The blood dripped onto the table and he started swirling his fingers through it, a painter fully confident in his work. Devon was too entranced in his hand movements that she missed the entrance of four men and two woman, all dressed in business suits of assorted color.

Dean's ever tightening grip on her arm brought her attention away from the blood and to the weapons that the newcomers carried. The blades were like nothing she had known existed, so beautiful yet dangerous. The diner's other occupants noticed the entrance, many of them screaming at the menacing sight. Chaos erupted around them, people running over each other to get away from the threat. Sam did not stop in his hurried actions and Devon saw that he was making some sort of symbol.

"You Winchesters need to keep out of Heaven's affairs."

"You dicks need to stop being such…dicks." Dean watched as his words angered the angel that had spoken. It was one of the little joys he had left, and he's be damned if he didn't take it. "Every time you try to interfere and every time you fail. Just give it up already."

"You will give us Lucifer's scion."

"Nope. We won't." Sam spoke the words as he brought his bloodied palm down onto the table. The effect was instaneous, the light blinding as it drive the angels from the diner. Sam and Dean did not wait for any more threats to walk through the door and were dragging Devon with them back to the impala. The diner was well behind them when Devon dared to ask them a question about what she had just witnessed.

"What the Hell is Lucifer's Scion?"

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